The Man Not Called Dad
by Jlbrew85
Summary: It's Father's Day and each of Bruce's sons give him a gift. (Written in honor of Father's Day-June 21, 2015)


**Batman**

" **The Man Not Called Dad"**

 **Summary** : It's Father's Day and each of Bruce's sons give him a gift.

 **Author's Note:** This is for all you dads out there. Sadly, I'm not one of you. Maybe some day, though. (Happy's Father's Day!)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters. I just wrote this story for fun.

~Batman~Batman~Batman~Batman~Batman~

Bruce Wayne was sitting in his office, looking over some more or less meaningless reports, when his intercom buzzed.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wayne," his secretary said, "but your son is here to see you."

Bruce grinned at that. "Which one, Mattie?' he asked his older secretary, Matilda Jenkins.

After all, he did have four of them…though most people only ever remembered three of them.

"I'll give you a hint," a male voice spoke. "You loved me first."

Bruce smiled even more at that. "Come in, Dick," he told his eldest son.

A few moments later, the almost thirty year old former acrobat waltzed through his office door.

He crossed over to his desk and sat down a small wrapped package.

Bruce glanced down at it and then back up at his eldest son.

"What's the occasion?" he asked, puzzled.

It wasn't his birthday and he didn't think it was their anniversary (they always acknowledged in some form of fashion when he first took Dick in).

Dick snorted at that.

"Figures you wouldn't remember," he said, shaking his head but smiling all the same. "Guess it's a good thing I bought Alfred that card and signed your name. It's Father's Day, Bruce."

Bruce blinked at that and (after moving everything off it) glanced down at the calendar on top of his desk.

Sure enough, it was the twenty-first of June.

He blushed, in embarrassment. "I can't believe I forgot," he said, cringing.

He'd been so busy with Wayne Enterprises and Batman Inc.—not to mention his commitments to the Justice League—that his days had begun to blur together.

He generally had to ask Alfred each morning what the specific day was.

Come to think of it, the family butler had given him an odd look that morning when he'd asked.

He'd definitely have to do something special for the old guy when he got home.

"No sweat," Dick told him, cheerfully. "Me and Timmy laid some flowers on your dad's grave when I went to visit ours."

"Thank you for that," Bruce told him, sincerely. "I'll go myself as soon as I leave here."

"You gonna open it or what?" Dick asked him, nodding at the small package.

Bruce took it and shook it, earning another smile from his eldest.

Opening it, Bruce found a Rolex watch inside.

He glanced at Dick, raising an eyebrow.

It was a traditional Father's Day gift, he knew, but he had _multiple_ Rolex watches already.

"Look on the back," Dick told him, chuckling. He'd known what he was thinking.

Bruce did so and found an inscription that read: _To the Man Not Called Dad, Happy Father's Day._

Bruce smiled at that. It was certainly true enough. None of his sons called him, 'Dad'.

Dick and Tim simply called him 'Bruce'. Damian called him 'Father'. And Jason…

Well, most of the time he was lucky if Jason just called him 'old man'.

Mostly it was 'you miserable bastard'.

"Thank you, son," he told him, feeling himself getting choked up for some reason. "I think this one is my new favorite."

He took off the watch he was wearing and put on the new one. He held it up, admiring it.

"Even if I don't call you 'Dad'," Dick said, smiling at him. "I just want you to know you are the best one a kid—or man—could have."

Bruce got up out of his chair and made is way around the desk.

Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled his eldest into his arms and hugged him fiercely.

"I love you, son," he told Dick.

"I love you, too," Dick told him, smiling up at him. "I'll see you back home for dinner before patrol."

With that, he turned and exited the office.

After a moment, Bruce hit the intercom button.

"Mattie, tell Lucius I'll be leaving for the rest of the day," he told her.

"Where shall I tell him you are going, Mr. Wayne?" she asked him, curiously.

"To visit my father," Bruce told him, truthfully. "He'll understand, I think."

Mattie, who had worked for Thomas Wayne before she worked for his son, said simply, "Of course, Sir. I'll let Mr. Fox know right away."

With that, Bruce turned off the intercom and grabbed his briefcase.

He quickly called down to the garage to have his car brought up so it would be waiting for him and then he headed out.

He had his own Father's Day visit to make.

~Batman~Batman~Batman~Batman~Batman~Batman~

Bruce knelt down at the joint graves of Thomas and Martha Wayne, placing a single rose next to the flowers his sons had left, and bowed his head solemnly.

He always visited them on special occasions: Father's Day, Mother's Day, their birthdays, his birthday, and at Christmas.

The only time he didn't come here was on the anniversary of their death.

On that day, he laid flowers elsewhere.

He sensed movement behind him and turned to face whoever was trying unsuccessfully to sneak up on him.

"Good way to get smacked, huh?" Timothy Drake-Wayne, his third eldest son said with a smile.

Bruce smiled at that. "Dick said you'd been here already," he told him, simply.

The twenty year old shrugged.

"Knew you'd be heading out this way," he told him. "Since Dick went to the office, I thought I'd give you my gift here."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out another small wrapped gift.

Bruce took it.

"It's not another Rolex, is it?" he asked, hesitantly. "I'll look pretty silly wearing one on each wrist…"

"Nah, that was all Dick," Tim told him, assuredly. "This one is all me. Go on. Open it."

Bruce did so, finding inside a coffee mug—another traditional father's day gift—and written on it was: _The World's Greatest [Not] Dad._

Bruce couldn't help it. He laughed.

"Thought you might get a kick out of it," Tim said, smiling. "Happy Father's Day, Bruce."

"Thank you, son," Bruce said, pulling him into a tight hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Tim told him, stepping back. "I gotta go, though. Steph is waiting for me in the car."

"Will I see you both at the Manor later?" he asked, curiously.

"Course," Tim said, smiling. "S'not like we're gonna miss patrol."

With that, he turned and walked towards his car and his girlfriend.

Bruce glanced back at his own father's grave.

"Happy Father's Day," he said, quietly. He then headed for his own car.

It was time to go home.

~Batman~Batman~Batman~Batman~Batman~

Damian was waiting in the entry-way when he arrived home.

The twelve year old mini-assassin simply stood there a moment.

"Damian," Bruce nodded at his youngest son.

"Father," Damian nodded back.

He then did something that absolutely took Bruce completely by surprise.

He lunged at him and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Damian did not give hugs—he reluctantly received them, thanks to Dick—but generally barely acknowledged anyone but himself.

Bruce enjoyed the moment while it lasted—which wasn't long at all.

Once Damian had stepped back, he said simply, "Happy Father's Day."

With that, he turned and headed upstairs to his room.

Bruce swallowed, watching him go. A quiet chuckle had him glancing up.

Alfred stood there with the camera.

"Not to worry, Master Bruce," he told him, grinning. "I caught the moment perfectly. I'll be sure to frame it for you."

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce nodded, going over and giving the older man a hug of his own. "Happy Father's Day."

"To you as well, son," Alfred said, returning the hug. "I shall go and finish preparing supper now."

With that, he turned and left the entry-way.

Bruce smiled after him and then glanced up the stairs. "Thank you, son," he said, quietly.

So far, his Father's Day was going very well.

The only thing that could make it complete was…

But it was probably best not to think about something that would never happen.

With a sigh filled with longing and regret, he made his way up the stairs to his own bedroom.

~Batman~Batman~Batman~Batman~Batman~

Bruce stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.

Making his way into the bedroom to put on some casual wear, he paused.

The window was open and it definitely hadn't been when he went into the bathroom.

"Don't make any sudden moves," a deep, male voice spoke causing him to freeze. "Cuz, you know, I don't need a gander at your sagging old man ass."

From the shadows, a man in a red leather jacket, gray Kevlar with the bat insignia on it, and a red domino mask, stepped forward.

"Jason," Bruce said, swallowing. His second eldest son was the last person he had expected to see today.

Jason actually grinned at him.

"For an old guy, you still look in pretty good shape," he quipped at him.

Bruce snorted at that. "I'm not that old, Jason," he reminded him. He was only forty-eight, after all!

"Old enough to have four sons," Jason said, shrugging.

"Four?" Bruce asked, swallowing. "I didn't think…"

"That I considered myself one of them any longer?" Jason asked, knowingly. "Yeah, I know."

Jason stepped up in front of him.

"That's my gift to you," he told him, simply. "You might be pain in the ass, but you're still my dad—even if none of us call you that."

With that, he pulled Bruce into a tight embrace.

Not caring the slightest that his towel might very fall off, Bruce wrapped his own arms tightly around his 'wounded Robin' and held on to him as if it were for dear life.

"Happy's Father's Day," Jason whispered in his ear.

Bruce's voice all but broke as he said, "I love you, son."

Jason's voice hesitated a fraction of a second before saying, "Love you, too."

Bruce didn't even bother to stop the tears that leaked from his eyes.

"Welcome home, Jason," he whispered in the twenty-five year olds' ear.

Jason stepped back from him and glanced at him a moment. Then, he actually smiled.

"Thanks, Dad."

Bruce never thought two words could make him so happy—but they did.

The End.

(HAPPY'S FATHER'S DAY!)


End file.
